


I Go To The Woods Alone

by Marlon



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Nymphs & Dryads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 18:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlon/pseuds/Marlon
Summary: Kylo worked hard and saved every penny to be able to afford the small cottage on the outskirts of London. His dream home is lovely and comes complete with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, gardens, and a very territorial dryad. What's Kylo to do with a creature straight out of one of his Classical mythology textbooks?





	I Go To The Woods Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy the adventures of dryad Hux! Thanks to @thecopperriver for the beta work :)

_“I’m obligated to tell you that the previous owners considered this house to be haunted.”_

Kylo vividly remembers scoffing at the estate agent’s warning.

 _Whatever._ Ghosts aren’t real. If the previous owners of the cottage in Crouch End wanted to sell the place at a hugely discounted price for such a ridiculous reason, who was Kylo to stop them?

\----

Kylo had spent every minute of every day for the past five years working towards this very day. Living first at home with his parents while he completed his Ph.D., then later with his uncle and cousin while he gained enough teaching hours at Kings College, everything he’d done had been leading towards his near-impossible goal of owning his own home in the sprawling, expensive city of London.

He’d never really considered moving somewhere cheaper even though he knows that would be so much easier. “Why the hell are you living in London” his grandmother had said to him one day, and he didn’t know how to explain to her the energy and excitement of the city. He always felt like he was holding his breath because something was about to happen at any given moment. Who had said “he who is tired of London, is tired of life” - was it Oscar Wilde? Samuel Johnson? Whoever it was, Kylo agreed with them with all his heart, he wouldn’t be anywhere else.

Sure, he’d applied to some teaching positions up in Edinburgh and over in Galway but he wasn’t serious about them. He’d only done it to appease Leia - he knows she worries about him being swept away by the fervour of the city.

Finally though, finally, the day came when he’d saved enough for a decent deposit on a house. It had made all of it - weekend tutoring and summer session on top of a packed teaching schedule - worth it. The charming and tenacious estate agent looked doubtful when he admitted how much he had to spend but Poe went to work for Kylo anyway, attacking the project with zeal, determined to find Kylo his dream home. Eventually, after a few fraught months of bidding wars that he lost and offers that went nowhere, Poe suggested perhaps Kylo would do better to consider looking in Kent, but Kylo wouldn’t hear of it. He resolved himself to stay at Luke’s and spend another year saving up to make a more competitive offer. 

On the last day of a self-imposed deadline to find a suitable house, when Kylo had been ready to admit defeat and tell Poe to put the search on hold for another year, Poe reluctantly pulled one final portfolio from his files.

“There is this one house.” He hesitated in handing the file to Kylo. “It’s in Crouch End.”

Kylo had felt a zing of excitement ripple up his back - this was it, fate had finally smiled down upon him. The pretty yellow-bricked cottage was everything he’d ever wanted - he couldn’t believe his luck.

He’d waved Poe off when he’d tried to explain why the house had changed hands so many times, why it had been on the market for so long, and why the asking price was such an incredible bargain for the location. Kylo didn’t want to hear any of it - he’d had a good feeling about the house and begged Poe to make the call.

Besides, Kylo needed a place to live, and no one but he seemed to want this house. Things would be fine, right? What could possibly go wrong?

\----

Kylo waves happily as the small moving van pulls away from the curb and trundles down the street. He doesn’t have much furniture, mostly books, so it hadn’t taken the two men with the van long to move him from Luke’s townhouse to his new home in Crouch End.

As the van turns the corner and disappears, he’s left alone to survey the front garden with delight. The front garden is almost entirely manicured flower beds with a neat cobblestone pathway snaking its way through the foliage to the front door. In the corner of the yard, tucked into the elbow where the road bends around his property, is a beautiful, mature mulberry tree. Outside his gate, the boulevard up and down the street is lined with tall established oak and maple trees and these, combined with the well-tended yards of his neighbour, mean that the front of his house will be shady and cool in the summer.

Although Kylo doesn’t know anything about gardening, he hopes that all he’ll need to do to keep the gardens thriving is to water regularly and keep the flower beds clear of debris. That seems easy enough. The previous owners had left behind some whimsical decorations; in the bed to the left of the stone path is a charming birdbath, and here and there little stone rabbits peek out from beneath bushes and flowers. The birdbath is in acceptable shape, the stone pedestal is slightly mossy with age and the shell-shaped basin is empty - he’ll probably keep it where it is, but the stone animals might be a bit too twee for his liking, as cute as they are. Kylo makes a note to fill the basin of the birdbath later, maybe he’ll encourage some of the local wildlife to make a home in his garden.

Back inside, the movers had done an efficient job of sorting the boxes of his possessions into the correct rooms. His plain wood writing desk, three towering bookshelves, and countless boxes of precious books are all in the front parlour. The room had been renovated at some point in the house’s history - where there had once been a clear dividing wall between the parlour and the kitchen, there is now one airy room with only a decorative archway indicating there used to be two rooms at all. Kylo can already tell the front room is where he’s going to be spending most of his time when he’s at home. Between the large, three-paned windows along the front of the room and the original exposed brick fireplace, the room already has good energy.

Kylo crosses through to the kitchen, the white wooden cabinets and gray granite countertops are pristine and gleaming in the mid-morning light. Luke had pressed a box of kitchen items into his arms before he departed that morning and now, Kylo is grateful for it. Plates, cutlery, glasses, and the like hadn’t occurred to him before this morning - he still needs to buy so many things. For a moment, standing in the quiet kitchen, birdsong filtering in through the open window, Kylo realizes that this is the first time in all his 31 years that he’s lived on his own.

Before he can get too overwhelmed, he steps quickly across the room and through the door that leads to the back garden. Once outside, he stops on the gray flagstones and closes his eyes, he tips his face up to the sky and just breathes for a moment. The scent of freshly cut grass rolls towards him on the breeze, the sun filters through the canopy of trees and warms his face, and his shoulders loosen. He hadn’t thought about the possibility of being lonely when he made the monumental decision to buy his own house. Rey will still come over for movie and pizza nights, he supposes. He was so used to the chaos of Luke’s home - three people and a very rambunctious corgi make a lot of noise - and now it will just be Kylo. All by himself. In this house alone.

Maybe he’ll get a little cat for company.

A sudden rustling draws his attention away from his unquiet thoughts. He glances towards the back of the garden where an ancient oak tree stands; the tree is tall and the trunk so thick, that Kylo is sure it must be old enough to have seen the coming of the Romans. The tree is in full bloom in this late spring with new leaves brightly verdant and lush. The rustling of leaves comes again. Kylo peers up and up but can see neither squirrel or errant bird. Shrugging it off as yet one more thing he’ll have to get used to, Kylo returns inside, leaving the garden door open for the fresh air.

He passes through the kitchen to the parlour once more. Rifling through the stacks of boxes of books, he finds one marked “open first”. Digging out his wifi hub and wireless speaker, Kylo gets to work settling into his new home.

\----

Kylo wakes the next morning well before his alarm. He’s groggy and muzzy-headed, having had a poor sleep. For one, the street outside the cottage at Hornsey Lane is a lot quieter than Luke and Rey’s place so he heard every creak and groan of the house settling, every heartbeat and slide of his legs across the sheets had screamed loud in the dark.

And what’s worse, just as Kylo had finally begun to drift off some sort of windstorm or a sudden burst of weather had blown in. He didn’t know how else to describe it. He had been kept awake for hours by the constant rattling of branches against his bedroom window. As bad as that had been, it was nothing compared to the racket that kicked up after midnight. Kylo isn’t even sure if it was rain but something had peppered his bedroom windows intermittently for hours last night before finally tapering off around three.

Kylo hurries to get ready, he now has to deal with a slightly more intricate commute than before. He showers, ending with a blast of cold water to help wake himself up. In his darkened bedroom, Kylo pulls on his jeans, t-shirt, and layers a dark gray cardigan over top. He flings the curtains open so he can examine the garden while he dries his hair. He lets his eyes rove over the garden as he roughly towels his hair dry - everything seems to be in order, nothing out of the ordinary like felled branches or torn up plants that might indicate a storm the night before. The only thing that catches Kylo’s eye is the trembling leaves of the old oak. He allows the towel to hang off his shoulders like a cape as he keeps his eyes fixed on the lowermost branches of the tree. Nothing appears, however.

Throwing the towel over the door to air dry, Kylo clatters down the stairs to the first floor. He strides through the kitchen and out into the garden to examine the garden more closely. The flower bed beneath his bedroom window is littered with acorns and tiny pebbles: no plants are damaged but the ground is covered in debris. He frowns down at the garden, he knew he hadn’t imagined the commotion of last night but what could be the cause? He glances up at the clear, cloudless sky. A sudden microburst? Localized entirely in his back garden? He scrubs a hand through his still-damp hair. It seems unlikely, but there were always those odd stories from America about sudden downpours of frogs or fish miles from any body of water. He’s just never heard of such a thing in the middle of London. 

The sounds of something moving stealthily through the branches of the oak tree draws his attention away from the confounding acorns and pebbles. Kylo glances over his shoulder and gasps as the branches clearly moving without the aid of the wind. He takes a tentative step towards the tree but his phone vibrates in his back pocket, alerting him to the fact that he needs to be walking out the door soon.

Promising himself that he’ll investigate the tree further on the weekend, Kylo dashes back inside, locking the door firmly behind him. He swipes up his elegant leather messenger bag - a gift from his mother when he got accepted into his Ph.D. program - and his laptop bag as he heads for the front door. Securing the front door, he flies down the street - he can’t miss the start of his Rhetoric of the Roman Republic class, the students were likely to scatter if he wasn't there at nine on the dot. All thoughts of the strange occurrences in the garden fly from Kylo’s head as he strides towards the underground station mentally preparing for his first lecture of the day.

\----

By Friday evening, Kylo is exhausted. He isn’t used to the longer commute and that, combined with a full schedule of classes and a never-ending parade of worried students outside his office, had him run off his feet. He realizes that it’ll take a few weeks to figure out the optimal time to catch the Northern line into central London, although there probably isn’t a time when the underground isn’t overcrowded he thinks ruefully. At least he’s tall and broad enough that people tend to give him a wide berth on the carriage.

The weekend dawns bright and clear and the fresh morning breeze floating in the kitchen door promises to bring a warm day and a lifting of Kylo’s spirits. He still has very little in the way of furniture, it’s all set to be delivered next weekend, so he’s determined to fix up the back garden so he can sprawl out on a blanket and catch up on some reading.

The lawn is in desperate need of cutting as the previous owners clearly focussed on keeping the front of the cottage presentable, and the flower beds along the wooden fence between Kylo’s and the neighbour’s property need tending. The flowering shrubs and bushes along the other side of the property, where the wrought iron fence follows the curve of the road, also need some pruning.

Luckily, Kylo is able to make use of the neighbour’s push lawn mower and shears. The pleasant older couple have been very welcoming to Kylo and eager to share their extensive collection of gardening implements with him. Their landscaping around their house is impeccable and even to Kylo’s untrained eye, it’s obvious they put a lot of work into their gardens.

The day is already promising to be a warm one so Kylo changes into his loose gray tank top and running tights and gets to work. There was no green space at Luke’s townhouse so he’s completely unused to pushing an unwieldy lawn mower around, and after only a few minutes, his shirt has grown damp with sweat. The mower isn’t motorized which makes it nearly impossible manoeuvre smoothly around the flower beds, and after accidentally running over several exposed tree roots, Kylo jerks the lawnmower to stop and pull his sweaty, heavy hair into a top knot to keep it out of his eyes. 

Once the lawn has been raggedly trimmed down, Kylo diligently rakes the clippings into a neat pile. A few acorns rain down on him from the oak tree but he pays them little mind. Noticing that the grass is still a bit long and scraggly around the base of the tree, he starts to trim the long blades with the garden shears.

Eventually, the sporadic fall of acorns becomes a steady trickle, striking Kylo on his shoulders and back. When a rather large branch plummets to the ground, narrowly missing him, Kylo leaps back from the tree and glares up into the branches. A strangled scream constricts his throat as a pair of brilliant emerald eyes glower back at him. 

Kylo stumbles back, tripping over his feet he lands on his arse as a striking man unfurls himself from the branch above and slips gracefully to the ground. He crouches slightly, as if protecting the tree, and hisses at Kylo, who can’t help but gawk. Besides the vibrant green eyes, the man also has brilliant red hair that glows like a halo around his head. A crown of oak leaves, ivy, and wolfsbane from Kylo’s gardens adorns his head. And it should look ridiculous but somehow, it makes the man look positively regal. When it becomes clear to the strange man that Kylo isn’t going to attack him, or even get up off the ground, he draws himself up to his full height. He cocks his head to the side and he and Kylo study each other for a tense moment.

The man is dressed as if he’s stepped right out of the pages of one of Kylo’s classical archaeology textbooks. He appears to be wearing a knee-length toga belted at the waist, but instead of being a pristine white, this toga has grass-stains along the hem and a long tear in the skirt which exposes the length of the man’s long, bare leg. His chest and slim torso are wrapped in a scuffed, well-worn leather cuirass, the laces holding it in place criss-cross around his trim waist and knot at his side. Across the man’s slight shoulders, leather pauldrons sit snug to his narrow frame, and a pair of leather vambraces are laced tightly to his forearms. His feet are bare.

“What are you doing in my garden?”

Kylo gasps at the low, honeyed voice, almost too stunned to respond. “Ah… your garden?”

The man snorts. “Yes, what are you doing in my garden and why are you snooping around the tree?”

Kylo sits up straight, suddenly defensive. “I wasn’t snooping, I was trying to cut the grass.” His eyes nervously dart down to the man’s hands which begin to glow softly. “And this is my garden, my house.” The man sneers but doesn’t strike out at him so Kylo struggles to his feet. “What are _you_ doing in _my_ garden?”

“I live here, of course.” The man gestures behind himself towards the tree. “This is my home.” He crosses his arms smugly as though that has put to rest the argument over tree and garden ownership.

“What-” Kylo stutters, eyes wide. “What do you mean you live here? In the tree? Like, you camp out back here? I can’t believe Poe didn’t mention that.”

The man frowns deeply. The glow of his hands' flares brightly and with a quick, beckoning gesture, he flicks his hand out to the side and back. Tendrils of ivy snake out from the brush at the side of the garden and wrap themselves around Kylo’s ankle, tossing him to the ground before he can even react. With a wave of his hand, the man causes the ivy to retreat.

“What the shit is going on!” Kylo screeches, pain from his fall radiating up his backside. “Fuck, that hurt. Who the hell are you?”

“Are you going to get out of my garden or not?” The man asks impatiently.

“I’m not going anywhere, this is my house.”

Kylo scrambles to his feet again and takes a menacing step towards the strange interloper who quickly throws up his hands in front of his chest, crossing them at the wrists. The tree above them sways forward as two long branches swing down to cross themselves in front of the man, mimicking the formation of his arms and forming a barrier between them. Kylo stutters to a stop, once more gaping, unable to comprehend that the tree seems to obey the strange man’s wishes.

“What are you?” He breathes.

“I’m a dryad, and this is my home. I won’t let you destroy it.” The man breaks the cross formation of his arms and the branches recede, but not before knocking Kylo on his arse again.

“You can’t be a dryad.” Kylo counters. “I teach Classics, I know about dryads.”

The man hisses. “Well, if you know all about dryads, then surely you must know when you’re looking at one.”

Kylo staggers to his feet, head swimming. This is beyond belief. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees a swirl of spots. He must have heat stroke or something, he’s been out here too long in the sun without water. Dryads don’t exist outside Classical mythology.

“I can’t… okay, fine, you’re a dryad. What are you doing in London then?”

“I’ve always been here, you should be asking what’s London doing here?”

Kylo barks a laugh. “What are you talking about? The city’s been here for over a thousand years.”

The dryad crosses his arms, shrugging one shoulder in a careless gesture. “So?”

“So…” Kylo drawls the vowel. “Are you saying you’ve lived here for more than a thousand years?”

“Yes, obviously.” The dryad rolls his eyes, clearly growing weary of the circular conversation. “Time is an illusion.”

Kylo snorts at the glib response. He then scrubs a hand over his face and drags his fingers through his tangled damp hair, exhaling long and low as he tries to get his sluggish brain working. This is fine. Perfect, even. His dream house apparently comes with a mythological tree spirit - no wonder the previous tenants had been in a desperate rush to sell.

“So you’re a dryad.” Kylo gestures helplessly to the strange man. “This is what dryads look like?”

“Yes, some of us. Others look different.” The dryad uncrosses his arms. He fiddles with the laces on the vambrace on his right arm. “My brothers and sisters live all across this land.”

Kylo shoots a nervous glance at the plethora of trees in the neighbour’s garden, easily imagining a horde of red-haired siblings just ready to swarm over the garden wall to cause trouble. “That’s great,” he babbles nonsensically. “Just great. Ah, do you have a name?”

“Armitage.” The dryad’s hands begin to gleam softly again. “So are you going to get out of my garden or not?”

Kylo dances back a couple steps as Armitage sends the ivy after him again. “I’m Kylo by the way, thanks for asking.” Armitage sneers at his name. “And no, I won’t be leaving so you’ll have to just have to deal with it.”

He yelps as the oak tree takes another swipe at him with its branches. He stoops to retrieve his garden shears from the ground then leaps further back again as the yew tree on the other side of the neighbouring fence sweeps its brushy, fern-like leaves at him. Armitage laughs.

“We shall see.” He hisses as he sends the ivy and purple-flowered clematis vines whipping towards Kylo. “We shall see.”

Kylo lets out a frightened squeak as he dashes to the safety of his house. He slams and locks the door as the vines purl heavily against the glass before receding into the flower beds. Beyond, Armitage is nowhere to be found. Kylo flings the curtains closed then braces his hands on the counter, trying to calm his racing heart. What should he do? Who should he call - the police? An arborist?

Rattling the doorknob to make sure it’s firmly locked, he hurries to the front parlour to his laptop to do what he always does whenever he doesn’t know the answer. His shaking hands fly over the keyboard as he works, searching for a way to deal with his mythological problem.

\----

Carefully and methodically, Kylo finishes his morning routine. He rinses out the razor in the sink then pats some lotion over his freshly shaved jawline as he gazes hypnotically into the mirror, his mind turning over and over. After an evening spent deep in his books and research, he’s discovered that there is no way to actually get rid of a dryad, short of chopping down the oak tree, and Kylo doesn’t actually want to do that. He doesn’t want to harm Armitage or the tree, he just wants to be at peace with him. What Armitage gets up to in the garden is no concern of his, as long as Kylo can get to sleep at night.

Kylo had tossed and turned all week as Armitage did his utmost to keep Kylo awake and on edge each night. The racket always tapered off after three, well after the time Kylo needed to be asleep to ensure that he’s well-rested in the morning. He sighs as he regards his slightly bruised eyes in the mirror.

Back in the bedroom, Kylo pulls on his favourite t-shirt. He hadn’t bothered to open the curtains, he didn’t want to see how much of a mess the garden was after a night of Armitage’s troublemaking. In the dim light of the room, he gathers up his blue hoodie and wristwatch from the bureau and trots downstairs. Now that the school year is rapidly coming to a close and the nice weather is here, he can afford to dress a bit more casually.

His Roman Republic class has been his favourite of the term. The students are all keen and he had to admit he’d laughed out loud more than once at their outrageous wit - he’s confident they’ll all do well with their final exams and papers. In the parlour, he gathers up his laptop, a stack of graded essays and other assignments, and shuffles it all into his bag. Heading to the front door, eyes on his phone, Kylo doesn’t notice that the parlour seems dimmer than normal for this time of the morning. Flinging open the door, he’s confronted with a thick wall of tangled vines, studded with orange flowers and small white berries.

Kylo takes a step back, stunned. Then, with a low angry growl deep in his throat, he lets fall his messenger bag and shoves his phone in his pocket. As he grabs at the vines, intending to tear them down, he yelps. Drawing his hands back, the serrated edges of some of the leaves have pricked the tender skin of his palms. Swiping his tongue over the many tiny cuts, he rushes to the kitchen to vigorously wash his hands at the sink. He dries his hands as his gaze darts around the kitchen before landing on the garden shears that are still sitting by the door.

He seizes the shears and marches back to the front door, determined to cut a path through the offending vines. He doesn't have time for this nonsense in the morning. He stops though, unsure what damaging the plants will do to Armitage. He knows that harming the oak tree would have adverse effects on the dryad, but what about injury to his botanical minions? If Kylo hacks his way through the ivy, will he also cause pain to Armitage?

With a resigned sigh, he sets the garden shears down on the kitchen counter then returns to the front door and his abandoned bag. He stands there, hands on his hips before he notices that there’s just enough space between the step and the end of the vines for him to wriggle through. With another heaving sigh, he nudges his bag out the door then drops to his belly and crawls out onto the front stoop.

Valiantly ignoring the delighted tinkle of Armitage’s laugh as he picks himself up off the ground with as much dignity as is possible given the situation, Kylo gingerly reaches through the vines and pulls the door closed and locks it. He snatches his bag off the step and marches down the cobblestone path towards Armitage, who is perched daintily in the dry bird bath, long legs crossed elegantly at the knee. He’s forgone his leather armour today, obviously realizing Kylo poses no real threat to him, and is dressed simply in his tunic and botanical crown. Against the chill of the early morning, he’s also wrapped a green and gold cloak around his shoulders.

“Armitage I don’t have time to play this morning.” He cries as he hurries past.

The dryad cackles.

“Seriously, this better not be like this when I get back,” Kylo calls over his shoulder as he clatters through the gate and onto the pavement.

“You’re no fun.” Armitage rolls his eyes. With a wiggle of his fingers, a shower of white blossoms rains down from the trees above Kylo, decorating his hair and shirt with small flowers.

Kylo sternly brushes off the flowers as he strides down the street, his mouth curls up into a small smile, however, as Armitage’s cheery laugh trails after him.

\----

By the time Kylo arrives on campus, he has the rough outlines of a half-formed plan in his head. Barreling across campus towards the North Wing where his office is located, he races up the steps, waving to some of his students as he goes. Kylo drops his bag off in his office then heads down the hall and around the corner to where the graduate students have their cramped offices. He’s not quite sure of Aoife’s schedule but he hopes she’ll be in this morning. As he rounds the corner, he sees that he’s in luck.

He knocks politely on the open door and from within, the tall Indian woman who is hunched over her computer typing at a blinding speed glances up at him. Her long hair is swept up in a topknot and held in place with at least three pencils, and she looks as if she’s been hard at work for several hours now. She smiles at him, eyes blinking rapidly as they focus on something other than the computer screen.

“Hey Professor Ren, do you need something?” She gestures to one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Kylo sinks gratefully into one.

“I know you’re busy, Aoife, this won’t take long.” Kylo takes a breath. “What do you know about dryads?”

\----

Kylo returns home later than usual, having made a stop at one of the nicer markets to pick up a jar of honey. Aoife had informed him that dryads and other types of nature deities, found offerings of honey, water, and all sorts of shiny trinkets to be eminently acceptable. Obviously, Kylo hadn’t told her that he apparently had a real live dryad living in his garden, even saying it to himself sounded ridiculous, so he pretended it was simply professional curiosity.

Approaching his cottage in the deepening twilight, he breathes a sigh of relief to see that Armitage has caused the vines to mostly retreat from the front of his house - the door is clear at least even if the rest of the house is still blanketed with ivy. After mulling over the problem of Armitage for several weeks now, he finally realized that the dryad is probably terrified of losing his home. He’d have watched the city encroach upon his leafy home for centuries, never knowing when the tree might fall. In the last few decades, it had been a never-ending parade of people through his garden, never leaving offerings, never propitiating him properly, just destroying and rebuilding and cutting down the forest to suit themselves, unaware that they were steps away from an elemental being.

Well, Kylo tells himself, today that changes.

He lets himself in the ivy-free front door and, leaving his school things in the parlour, heads towards the kitchen with the brown paper bag from the market. In the kitchen, he sets the bag on the counter as he rummages through the cupboards for a dish. Glancing over his shoulder towards the garden beyond the windows, all seems calm. Armitage is nowhere in sight, the oak tree is tall and serene in the evening light, and even though the grass and shrubs are growing wildly out of control, thanks to Armitage’s spellwork, nothing looks all that out of the ordinary.

Finding a set of small glass bowls in the back of the cupboard, Kylo scoops out two spoonfuls of the gooey amber-coloured honey into one of the dishes. He sticks the spoon in his mouth to lick it clean as he pushes the jar to the back of the counter and fishes out a handful of change from his pocket. Depositing the sticky spoon in the sink, he takes the honey and the coins outside.

Kylo approaches the tree cautiously, stopping a few steps away. 

“Armitage? You home?”

When no answer is forthcoming, Kylo hurries to the base of the tree and carefully arranges the bowl and coins where Armitage is sure to see them, then he retreats to the safety of his house for the night.

\----

In the morning, Kylo finds the bowl, clean and sparkling in the morning light, sitting in the bird bath along with a little bundle of bluebells and early strawberries. He smiles to himself.

\----

As April turns into May, the days get longer, warmer, and more luxurious. Kylo’s teaching schedule has eased up some, he’s only signed up to teach two classes over the summer months - easy introductory classes that are most often filled by uninterested science and engineering students who need arts credits, or incoming students eager to get a jump on their coursework. All in all, it’s an easy summer term for Kylo with minimum planning so he’s free to spend more time at home.

Kylo’s plan to appease Armitage via various offerings of honey, coins, and other trifles has been working wonderfully well. Now that Armitage feels appropriately feted, Kylo doesn’t actually see him all that much. As skittish and elegant as a deer, he rarely shows himself when he’s off about his mythological business. It makes Kylo wonder how the previous owners of the cottage could have had so much trouble with him that the only course of action was to move out. Kylo’s daily offerings have grown from honey and coins to sweet treats from the bakery, to glittering crystals, and buttons. The offering of the Pain du Chocolat from Pret had been well received if the return gift of a small basket of blackberries was anything to go by. Where Armitage squirrels his treasures away, Kylo has no idea but he did notice the glimmer of a crystal hanging within the leaves of the oak tree one morning.

The gardens surrounding Kylo’s home have grown beautifully full and lush as spring turns into summer. The front garden is a riot of colour. The back garden, where Kylo spends more of his time, is more obviously under Armitage’s influence; ivy and flowering vines have swept over the fences on either side of his property and have grown so lush that the garden is completely closed off from street view. It’s a lovely oasis that Kylo enjoys immensely. After their initial bumpy meeting, Kylo finds he appreciates Armitage’s quiet presence in the garden; the simple ritual of leaving offerings to the dryad is comforting to Kylo, he feels less alone with Armitage haunting the property.

This morning, Kylo has sprawled out on a blanket in the sun, notes and papers spread in a fan around him. He’s working on a response to a colleague’s article about Julius Caesar’s incursions into Britain but he finds the article sloppy and with few citations. He throws his pen down upon the crumpled copy of the journal article, so far his notes consisted of frustrated underlines and exclamation points. Maybe he’ll work on this later.

Kylo rolls over onto his back folding his arms behind his head, to contemplate the bright blue of the morning sky. Maybe he should write a short paper on Armitage, it could be on the daily habits of your local dryad. He giggles - it would be hard to cite his sources for such a paper though, he’d be no better off than the Julius Caesar article. Then, as if the very thought of Armitage has conjured him, a formation of sparrows steak by overhead, twittering madly. Kylo tips his head back to see them land in the oak tree, still singing. The branches shiver slightly and suddenly, Armitage is there. Kylo has not yet been able to figure out how he appears, Armitage just seems to materialize out of thin air at will.

Lying still, Kylo lets Armitage approach him at his own pace. The dryad picks his way across the yard to fold himself down onto the blanket beside Kylo. He’s wearing only his tunic this morning, with a small satchel tied to his belt and none of his protective leather armour. Today, his botanical crown, which is normally composed of oak leaves and ivy, also contains rue and the small yellow flowers compliment his fiery hair beautifully. Kylo wonders if the flower composition of the crowns means anything in particular, or it’s just Armitage’s personal preferences. 

Sliding down to rest on his belly, Armitage folds his arms in front of him on the blanket and lowers his chin to perch atop them. He smiles at Kylo, eyes fluttering shut in contentment.

“Alright, Armitage?”

The dryad nods. “I’ve been down to see my brother, he’s been tending to a sick ash tree,” he nods in the direction of the Parkland Walk, “but I think between the two of us, we’ve helped to heal it.”

“Hmm, that’s good.” Kylo tucks a stray lock of Armitage’s silky hair behind his ear. “Do you want to have breakfast? There’s honey.”

Armitage perks up at the mention of the sticky treat and he rises gracefully to his feet, pulling Kylo up after him. Kylo stoops to sweep up his papers then he follows Armitage’s lilting steps to the kitchen door.

\----

As the summer rolls on, the heat becomes oppressive and Kylo finds himself spending more time inside in the cool dimness of the front parlour. The heat seems to have affected Armitage as well as he hides away during the hottest parts of the day, only visiting with Kylo in the very early morning, or at twilight when he goes out to water the gardens. When Kylo is home, he usually leaves the garden door propped open so that if Armitage wishes, he can take refuge inside from the sweltering sun. Sometimes Armitage even takes Kylo up on this offer.

Kylo has noticed that in this last week especially, Armitage has begun to silently slip in through the kitchen in order to curl up on the sofa in the parlour to escape the stifling heat of the afternoon. Kylo enjoys these times the most. He works away at his laptop by the window, one eye on the dozing dryad on the blue-checked sofa, the recirculated air of the table-top fan gently ruffling his hair.

How did this become his life?

\----

A deafening clap of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning startles Kylo awake. He lies in bed, heart racing, bracing himself for the next roll of thunder. Rain lashes the windows as the bedroom is briefly illuminated by another burst of lightning followed by a barrage of thunder. It had been so hot this week that the summer storm was inevitable.

It takes Kylo several minutes to realize that the rattling of the bedroom window isn’t caused by the storm at all. As the rattling resolves itself into more insistent knocking, Kylo kicks back the blankets and steps to the window. He throws back the curtains to see a soaked and bedraggled Armitage perched on the roof outside his window; the furious wind and rain has knocked his ivy crown askew and drenched his tunic. Kylo makes a pointing gesture while mouthing “kitchen”, indicating that Armitage should go to the back door. Armitage nods then vanishes with the next flash of lightning.

Kylo hurries out of the bedroom and stops only to grab clean towels from the linen closet in the hallway. He clatters down the stairs, swinging around the banister to careen towards the kitchen. In the brief flashes of illumination caused by the storm, he can see Armitage’s silhouette huddled in front of the garden door. He wrenches the door open, ushering a sodden Armitage inside before firmly locking the door against the storm. He unfurls the towel around Armitage’s shoulders and rubs his arms to warm him as Armitage drips water all over the tile floor of the kitchen.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He asks between chattering teeth.

“Of course you can!” Kylo uses the corner of the towel to wipe the rain from Armitage’s face. “Shit, did you know the storm was coming? You should have said something earlier.”

He leads Armitage upstairs and deposits him in the bathroom with another big, fluffy towel. Kylo then returns to his room and throws open the bureau to rummage through it - all his clothes will be too big for Armitage’s narrow frame, but he can’t sleep in a damp tunic, so a too-big t-shirt and pair of boxers will have to do. He knocks once on the partially closed bathroom door, then hands the clothing through. Leaving Armitage to sort himself out, Kylo returns to bed, turning on the bedside light and nestling back into the comfortable nest of pillows, unsure if Armitage will come here or find the spare room, or make his way back to the parlour.

The door creaks open hesitantly as Armitage pokes his head into the room. Seeing Kylo he smiles as he inches into the room, tugging at the hem of the shirt to cover more of his thighs. His hair is rumpled and fluffy after being vigorously dried with the towels and he’s left his ivy crown in the bathroom. The yellow light of the bedside lamp anoints his skin with a golden glow as he moves towards the bed. Kylo holds open a corner of the blankets for him, and Armitage slips beneath them, sidling up to Kylo, who gasps as cold toes press against his shins.

Kylo turns the light off and settles back down, Armitage a warm weight at his side. His breathing begins to even out as sleep starts to enfold him once again, then he jolts awake.

“What do you do in the winter?” He looks over at Armitage with concern. “And when the weather is this bad, do you just sit out there in the garden?”

Armitage blinks sleepily. “Hmm?” He shifts on the pillow. “Oh, my home is in the tree but yours is much nicer, and if you’re going to let me in then so much the better.”

Kylo snorts as he settles back down. He slings an arm around Armitage’s shoulders, tugging him closer. “So you’re just using me for my house?” He teases.

“Not at all. You made the offerings, and I find them appropriate, we now have an accord.”

“Oh.” Kylo considers that for a moment. “But what about the other owners of the house? What about-”

“Just go to sleep Kylo.” Armitage sighs as he nestles closer.

\----

After the storm, things subtly shift between them. Kylo still leaves his offerings of coins and treats by the enormous oak tree, partly because he enjoys the ritual and partly because, as a professor of Classical studies, he knows well what can happen when the gods and various deities are not properly honoured. But, it’s no chore to bring Armitage little things that he likes. He lives in a tree, after all, he should have small luxuries.

Kylo’s gardens continue to flourish, even now at the height of the summer when water bans are in place and every yard is withered and brown - his neighbours compliment him on his green thumb and Kylo accepts the praise modestly, even though the credit belongs entirely to Armitage. The trees on his property have full, leafy canopies that reach proudly for the sun and the ivy and wisteria continue to wind themselves along the fences. Whoever had planned the layouts of the gardens in the past must have been a professional for the flower beds all around the cottage are filled with plants that bloom at differing times, as soon as one section has finished flowering, another breaks out in an explosion of colour. The front of his house is never without a colourful display of flowers.

In order to take advantage of the shade provided by the trees, Kylo askes Armitage if it would be alright to suspend a hammock between the maple and the willow, and after a moments’ consultation, permission is granted. Armitage is wary of the hammock, however, after watching Kylo fall on his arse several times trying to climb into it; he prefers to perch up in his oak tree overhead and gaze down at Kylo. Since he’s lived in the neighbourhood for so long, he knows a large variety of odd, intimate details about the residents of the area and every once in a while after he and Kylo have finished filling each other in on their day, he can be persuaded to share tidbits of gossip.

“You’re not serious!” Kylo gasps.

Tonight he’s convinced Armitage to try the hammock and they sit in it together crossways, as if it was a sofa, their feet planted firmly on the grass. Kylo uses his toes to rock them a little as he listens to Armitage tell him about a neighbour’s secret hamburger habit.

“I am.” Armitage giggles. “I see him come home with a brown paper bag with a yellow, ah, I’m not sure of the word-” he makes an “m” shape in the air with his finger- “then he sneaks around to eat it behind the garden shed.”

Kylo leans back into the canvas of the hammock. “Wow.” He marvels. “I had no idea, I always thought he was a vegetarian. I guess you can never tell about someone’s vices.”

They huddle together in the hammock in companionable silence, letting the ambient sounds of the garden wash over them. A flock of sparrows twitter in the trees above them and from somewhere outside the garden walls, the sounds of kids at play can be heard. Kylo basks in the warm August evening, feeling pleasantly sleepy. Armitage drowses beside him, pressed shoulder to shoulder.

“Oh, hey-”

“Hmm?” Armitage rumbles soporifically.

“Rey is coming over for a movie night tomorrow, do you want to join in?”

Kylo feels the vibration of excitement hit Armitage’s body even though he tries to affect nonchalance. Kylo looks away as a grin threatens to overtake his face.

“Are you sure?” Armitage’s face is hopeful. “What will you tell her about me?”

“That you’re my neighbour.”

“That’s it?”

Kylo tilts his head towards Armitage, burying his face in his soft, fiery hair. He smiles.

“That you’re my friend.”

Armitage tips his face up to gaze into Kylo’s face, his green eyes wide and sparkling. “That’s good.” He smiles softly. “Very good.”

\----

“How about _Gladiator_?”

“I swear to god if one more student asks me if that was based on a true story I’m going to flip over a table.”

Rey laughs. “You mean it’s _not_ based on a true story?”

“Ugh.” Kylo crosses his arms across his chest as he slumps on the sofa beside Rey. “ _Ugh_ , Rey”

“Okay, so no movies about Rome then.” Rey giggles again as she continues to scroll through their Netflix choices.

“Well, just think how’d you feel if all day everyday people asked you when they’d be able to have their own personal robot.”

“That’s closer than you realize.” She murmurs, eyes on the flatscreen. “How about _Thor_ , or _Black Panther_?”

“Either is fine.” Kylo’s attention is suddenly snagged by a gentle tapping at the kitchen door. “Oh, he’s here.”

Rey looks up finally, eyebrow arched in question. “Who’s here?”

Kylo bolts off the sofa and dashes for the kitchen. Armitage stands in the open doorway, unsure if he should just walk in or not. Kylo slides to a stop in front of him, mouth agape.

“You look… wow.” He breathes. Armitage has forgone his usual accoutrements, obviously wary of showing his true dryad self to Rey just yet, and is wearing dark charcoal shorts with a slight checkered pattern and a blue and white striped shirt with a wide boat-neck that slips off to the side. His long elegant feet are still bare, however.

“Is this alright?” Armitage looks down at himself, suddenly shy. “I wasn’t exactly sure.”

“You always look perfect no matter what you wear.” Kylo squeezes his hand then tugs him forward, laying a guiding hand on the small of his back. “Where did you get them anyway?”

“I stole them off a clothesline a few houses over.”

“Oh my god, did anyone see you?” Kylo whispers.

Armitage rolls his eyes. “Please.”

They come into the parlour where Rey is kneeling on the sofa, watching them with a knowing grin on her face. Kylo frowns a little at her and shakes his head minutely, but she only smiles wider as her eyes dart between them, taking in the soft-eyed look on Armitage’s face and Kylo’s hand on his lower back.

“Rey, this is Armitage,” Kylo says. “Armitage is my neighbour.”

He elbows Armitage in the ribs as he snorts at the description.

“Of course,” Rey says, eyes still glued to them. “You’re the one who helps him with the garden.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Armitage replies as Kylo drags him around to sit on the sofa. Kylo plunks himself down in the middle, Rey on one side, Armitage on the other.

Rey hands a bowl of pretzels to Armitage, taking the popcorn for herself. “I hope you like Marvel movies.” She says through a handful of buttery popcorn.

“Ah… I love them.” He replies a bit mechanically, turning to Kylo with questions in his eyes.

“Let’s just start the first one,” Kylo says as he swipes a handful of popcorn to share with Armitage.

Rey nods, pressing play on her phone so that the movie’s theme song blasts from the speakers. She settles into the corner of the sofa, flinging her legs over Kylo’s knees, eyes focussed on the frenetic opening fight scene. On his other side, Armitage curls into his side, resting his head on Kylo’s shoulder. Slipping his arm around Armitage’s shoulders, Kylo encourages him to cuddle in closer and the three of them settle in to watch the movie.

He really needs to send Poe a better thank you gift, Kylo thinks, as Armitage and Rey burst out laughing at the same time. A much better gift for sure, for the person who inadvertently gave Kylo everything he’s ever wanted. As he leans his cheek upon Armitage’s head and breathes in the familiar botanical scent of him, Kylo finds that he’s quite content with his new house.


End file.
